


4,761 miles

by katieelle



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Background Domlene, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Multi, this is going to be so cheesy r u ready boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-23 16:26:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13791558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katieelle/pseuds/katieelle
Summary: There's a Swedish foreign exchange student coming to Elliot's school. Elliot's guidance counselor thinks he's the perfect person to show him around, and Darlene is too caught up with her red-haired lab partner to care.





	1. september 3rd

**Author's Note:**

> hii !! so im still going to be updating the other fic im currently writing, but the chapters are usually pretty long and i wanted to write something different every once in a while if that makes sense ?? this is going to be pretty short and simple, but i hope you enjoy bc this fandom is seriously lacking high school au's lol.

Elliot always liked the rain. Not because of some poetic bullshit about how it ‘represented his inner sadness’ or whatever, but because it was genuinely relaxing. Distracting, even. He could get lost for hours just listening to the heavy sounds of water against pavement or watching the world blur around him. He already had so much shit to do and that study hall period would have been the perfect time to get some of it done, but instead, he was absentmindedly watching the pouring rain through the window. At the time, thinking about all of his assignments seemed like a better option than actually working on anything, but he knew he’d regret it later when he was up at three am trying to finish everything on time. Studying for AP calc, (why did he decide to take this class again?) writing that boring ass essay on the New Deal, (why did he need to learn all of those policies?) and coming up with some poems for English (metaphors made him want to kill himself even more.) 

His study hall room was usually quiet, with the occasional idiot who couldn’t keep his mouth shut for more than fifteen minutes, but today was abnormally silent. Even Johnny Norris, who spent most of that period tossing balls of paper to his friend across the room, was busy with his nose in a book. Elliot preferred it this way, fewer voices meant less shit going through his head and overwhelming him. But when the door swung open with a startling crash, almost everyone jumped in their seats and turned to see what was going on. 

It was none other than his dumbass little sister, Darlene, walking into class approximately eight minutes late like nothing was wrong. Mrs. Morris eyed her in annoyance, waiting for her to hand over a late pass, but of course she didn’t have one. “One more tardy and that’s a lunch detention,” she warned, but Darlene simply shrugged and sat down at the desk next to Elliot. What she was doing that needed eight extra minutes in addition to the five they had between classes was beyond him, but he didn’t feel inclined to ask. 

“Hey, doucheface,” she said in greeting as she pulled a binder out of her bag and then kicked it to the side. He was tempted to tell her to shut the fuck up because everyone else was silent and she was only drawing attention to them, but he knew that would only instigate her. So he didn’t respond, just looked away and back towards the window, hoping she could forget about whatever it was that she needed until they made it to lunch where they could talk freely. Unfortunately, patience or volume control were not words in her vocabulary. “So, you had this class when you were a sophomore, right? Do you understand, like, any of this?” 

She slid the binder over to him and he glanced at the page of chemistry notes for about three seconds before he started having nightmare-filled flashbacks to that class. It was like learning an entirely new language and it didn’t help that the teacher was a condescending bitch who made every class feel like it went on for three hours. The shapes drawn hastily onto the page rang a bell in his mind -- something about molecular shapes? No, that wasn't it. Molecular  _ geometry.  _ He clearly remembered being heavily hurt by the use of the word ‘geometry’ in chemistry. Geometry was never hard for him, but having that word be part of a chemistry lesson just about ruined it for him altogether. “Can’t help you,” he answered, turning his eyes away. He didn’t want to look at that for any longer than he had to and risk developing a headache.  

“But Elliot, you have to,” Darlene complained, flashing him her classic ‘puppy dog look.’ What she couldn’t seem to comprehend was that he was immune to it after her using it on him for so many years. Abruptly, she took back her pages of horrid notes and changed the subject. “Hey, so, do you know anyone named Dom? Dominique DiPierro?” 

The name sounded familiar, so he thought back to his previous classes. A part of his brain paired up the name with the quiet, studious, red-haired girl he’d had a criminal justice class with the year before. He only took it because he needed the credits, but he remembered how she’d seemed genuinely intrigued by the subject. “Yeah, had criminal justice with her last year. Why do you ask?” 

“So, we got paired up to do a lab in chem together, which is totally fine because she’s like a teacher’s pet, right?” She continued rambling on and although Elliot couldn’t have cared less about this girl he barely knew, Darlene didn’t have anyone else to talk to, so he tried to pretend like he was interested in her drama. “So I told her I wasn’t doing this stupid lab report because I knew she would do it since she’s the straight-A type. But do you know what she told me?” 

He felt like he had an idea of where she was going with all of this. “I don’t know, Darlene. What did Dominique DiPierro from criminal justice tell you?” 

“She said she wasn’t doing the work either if I wasn’t going to help her!” she exclaimed. Elliot felt a few heads turn to stare at them as her voice rose so he tried to pretend he was invisible and they could only see and hear Darlene.

Internally, he laughed at her story, imagining the look of shock on Darlene’s face when Dom told her she wasn’t doing everything by herself. Dom didn’t seem as bad as Darlene was making her out to be -- she seemed blunt, a little awkward, like the type of person Elliot wouldn’t mind being friends with. “Call me crazy, but that seems perfectly reasonable.” 

“No, Elliot!” she argued. “You’re not allowed to be on her side.” 

“I think you should just do some of the work so you don’t start off chemistry by failing,” he suggested. He had failed two or three tests in that class, and each time, they knocked his overall grade down by up to ten percentage points. He could go from an A+ to a B- with just one test. But to be fair, the grading system was kind of shitty, so he always liked to think it wasn’t his fault. 

She sighed, crossed her arms, and turned her attention back to her work. He watched as she stared at the words on the page, desperately trying to understand what the fuck was going on. She only got to make a few marks on the blank page before the phone was ringing and everyone was turning their focus to the front of the room, hoping the phone call was for them and they’d be able to leave class early. “Elliot?” Mrs. Morris called out to the class, scanning the room until she found him. “You’re wanted down at guidance.” 

Fuck. Not this again. It wasn’t like things were fine for him and Darlene at home at that time, but Darlene’s freshman year and his sophomore year had been….the shittiest, to say the least. Elliot knew it was bad for him, but he preferred to not talk about anything that was happening in his life to anyone. Feelings were messy, it was easier to focus on what was important. Darlene, though, was different. Every day, she would skip class to tell the guidance counselor a new awful story about something their mom was doing that night, always tip-toeing on the line between plain drunken stupidity to actual child abuse. It was never enough to cross that line, but it was enough to have Elliot called down to guidance a few times, too. He hated talking about it and he wished they would just leave him out of it, but if it meant Darlene was able to talk to someone about the awful shit she had to deal with on a daily basis, then he was willing to put up with it. 

“Darlene, did you….” he began to whisper to her, but he trailed off. She knew what he meant without him having to say it. 

“No, I wouldn’t. Not since you started paying for me to see Dr. Brandy.” 

It had to be something else, then. Maybe a conflict with his schedule? School had barely started, what the fuck did the guidance counselor want with him? He gazed out at the rain another time before slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading down the hall. 

Why was he so fucking nervous? He had gotten pretty well acquainted with Mrs. Perry after all their conversations the year before, but something felt off. He didn’t know what it was though, and maybe that’s what bothered him the most. The not knowing. Luckily, he didn’t have to walk too far since the lobby was right down the hall from his study hall room. That meant less time to ponder everything that could possibly be wrong, less time to worry himself even more. 

He knocked on the door to the guidance office and stepped back. For a few moments, he actually thought nobody was going to answer. Maybe there was a mistake? Maybe he could go back to class and forget about this? No, Mrs. Perry came to the door and ushered him in with a wide smile, lips painted bright with pink lipstick. “Hello, Elliot! So great to see you again!”

She was the always happy type, maybe that's why he never quite got along with her. She was the type of person who would say things like ‘there's good in everything’ and ‘you can choose to be happier.’ Bullshit. How she even managed to become a guidance counselor was a mystery to him. “Yeah,” he responded with a nod, sitting down on the chair across from her desk. She shuffled over to sit at her desk and immediately started to type at something on her computer. 

“So, Elliot, do you have any idea why I’ve called you down here?” she asked, finally turning away from her screen. She was always overly excited about something, so her bright eyes and perfectly white smile weren't surprising. They were definitely a stark contrast from the grey halls of the school, but not surprising. He shook his head no, because really, he couldn't think of any good reason he would have to miss study hall to talk to the counselor. “We’re getting a  _ foreign exchange student!”  _ She waved her hands in the air as if she was expecting Elliot to jump out of his chair in joy and her blonde curls bounced on her shoulders. 

“Okay….” he began. How the fuck was he supposed to respond to that without sounding like a dick? “So….why am I here?” It wasn't like this was the first time their school had an exchange student or anything. He couldn't see why this time would be any different. 

“Because….” she started to say, but she stopped herself to add suspense to her own announcement. She even had the audacity to give herself a mini drum roll by tapping her fingers on her desk. “You’re going to be showing him around the school!”

Jesus Christ. Could he not have just a single week of school that didn’t suck? He didn’t have time to be leading some privileged foreign kid around their school, having to explain everything to him that he didn’t understand. And trying to communicate with someone who was still learning English was probably one of the most frustrating things he could spend his time doing. On top of all of that, he didn’t even know this kid. With Elliot’s luck, he’d be annoying as fuck and he’d never shut up. Elliot would never be able to get anything done with him blabbing off in his ear all day. “Do I have to?” he asked, because maybe this was optional. Maybe he could opt out and someone else would have to do it. 

A look of disappointment crossed her face and the room fell scarily quiet for a few moments. Even the hum of the heater hurt his ears as he waited for a response. “I thought….I just thought you’d be excited,” she finally said, staring down at her desk and trying to fake a playful smile. “I wanted to match him up with someone who had the same interests so he’d feel more comfortable at our school, and you both like computer programming, so….” she trailed off then, still stumbling over her words. Maybe he did feel a little sorry for her, she seemed so proud of her choice and Elliot just trampled all over it. “And….and I know you get pretty lonely, I thought you two would get along, and….you don’t have to do it. I thought you’d like to.” 

For fuck's sake, she was trying so hard to help. And, sure, maybe last year her methods of helping him had only made things worse, but she did help Darlene out a lot just by listening to her. For that reason, he couldn’t hate her, especially not when she was doing so much to try to help him. “How long would I need to be showing him around for?” A compromise, maybe. He still wasn’t about to ruin the beginning of his year for the sake of his guidance counselor’s feelings, but he’d feel like shit if he flat out told her that her idea sucked. 

“Just until he gets used to the school. A week, at most.” A week? That wasn’t too bad, he could handle a week. “His host family will be showing him around places in the city, you’d just be helping him out at school.” 

Fuck. He was going to regret this, wasn’t he? “Alright, fine. I’ll do it.” That bright smile returned and Mrs. Perry thanked him more times than he could count. 

“You’re going to love this!” she claimed. “I think you’ll end up staying friends with him, I’m sure of it.” He wanted to argue with her, tell her that no, he was not going to enjoy any second of this and as soon as the student knew where he was going Elliot was never going to speak to him again. But what kind of person pisses on someone else’s happiness for no reason? So instead, he kept his mouth shut and decided it was best to let her think she was making a difference as a high school guidance counselor. 

“So, uh, when’s this guy getting here?” He’d like to get this over with as soon as possible, that way he doesn’t have to spend as much time dreading it. Rip off the band-aid, so to speak.

“Oh!” she gasped in surprise. “I haven’t even told you his name!” Okay, great. Now he was going to get his entire life story along with it. Maybe he should keep his mouth shut more often. “His name is Tyrell Wellick and he’s coming here from Sweden. He’ll be arriving on Saturday the 8th, so he’ll be at school the Monday after that.”

“Ok….” he said in a deep breath. He had at least a week to think about this, and maybe he’d even change his mind by then. “Um….how long is he going to be staying here?” he asked, not because he was interested, but because he didn’t know what else to say and he felt like he had to be asking questions. 

“Ten months, that’s the longest amount of a time an exchange student is allowed to stay in the U.S.” Elliot almost choked on his own spit when he heard that. What if Tyrell got really attached to him because he was the first person he’d meet and then he didn’t leave Elliot alone for the rest of the year? What if he had no other friends so he just stayed with Elliot every day? There were so many ways this could go wrong, but he couldn’t back out now. Not yet, at least. 

“Is there anything else I should know?” In other words, are you going to drop any more bombs on this situation that are going to make it even worse?

“Well, you’re taking a lot of similar classes, so that’s another reason I chose you for this,” she began. That meant he’d have to deal with him multiple times every day. Great. “Oh! And his family owns one of the biggest financial institutions in Sweden.” Goddammit. Of course Tyrell would end up being some rich, pretentious asshole, the kind of person Elliot simply couldn’t tolerate. 

“Ok, great,” he said monotonously. He was sure Mrs. Perry could detect the unenthusiastic tone of his voice, but she said nothing and kept smiling at him like she’d just made a huge discovery that was going to change history forever. He could back out of this now, he could just say he changed his mind and he didn’t have enough time for this. He wouldn’t though. For some reason, his mouth wouldn’t let his voice speak those words and instead he ended up mumbling a muffled, "Can't wait."


	2. september 10th

Ever since they were kids, Elliot and Darlene had rode the same bus to school and always ended up sitting in the same seat. And every day, Darlene would sprint to the bus stop first and fight him to secure her spot at the window seat. Today, for the first time in years, probably, she let Elliot on the bus first and sat in the aisle seat without hesitation. She didn’t say a single word as she sat down next to him and plugged in her earphones, staring straight ahead. Something was wrong. 

At first, he wasn’t going to say anything. She’d be able to figure her shit out on her own and he worried that bothering her would make things worse. Sometimes, with Darlene, the best option was to give her space and time to sort her thoughts out. But the more he ignored her, the more uncomfortable it became to look at her hopeless gaze. “Hey,” he finally said, his voice quiet, but she didn’t respond. Typical. “Hey, you okay?” he said louder, nudging her shoulder. She snapped around, her glare ice cold when their eyes met. “Jesus, sorry, you don’t have to be all pissed at me just because I worry about you sometimes.”

Darlene sighed and crossed her arms over chest, her expression softening just slightly. “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at  _ myself.”  _ He stopped to think for a few moments, trying to evaluate if she wanted him to keep asking questions or just leave her alone. While he was debating with himself, she had already started to answer that question for him. “Okay, and  _ maybe  _ I’m a little mad at Dominique DiPierro.” 

Dom? He thought back to a week before when Darlene had been offhandedly complaining about some lab project she had to do for chemistry. She hadn’t talked about it since then, he’d assumed she figured out whatever the problem was with it. But apparently not. “Is this about that chem thing?” 

“Yes,” she answered reluctantly, staring down at her feet. “I checked my grade last night, and we got a zero on the project. Can you believe that? A zero!”

Yes, he could, in fact, believe that she got a zero. It wouldn’t be the first time she didn’t turn in an important assignment, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Maybe he was being a shitty brother, but he felt sorrier for poor Dom than his own sister. It wasn’t Dom’s fault she got stuck with Elliot’s sister, who was so irresponsible she couldn’t even keep a betta fish alive for more than a few days. Fuck, he knew how it felt to be partnered with someone who refused to do any of the work, he couldn’t help but sympathize with Dom. “Maybe you should’ve done the work,” he said with a shrug. 

“I thought Dom would cave in and do it,” she explained. “But she thought  _ I  _ would cave and do it, too. So then neither of us ended up doing it.”

“Well that was pretty fucking stupid,” he said bluntly with a muffled laugh. Only his little sister would be so stubborn that she’d rather take a zero than be the one to finally cave in and finish the project. It was still dark on the bus because it was so early, but even then he could see how she dramatically rolled her eyes at him. “But seriously, you can’t start chem off with a fucking zero. Just talk to Dom and the teacher and try to make up some type of excuse, you could still get half credit if you’re a good enough liar.” Teachers tended to like Elliot because he was quiet, knew what he was doing, (most of the time) and usually managed to turn work in on time. And because of that, he could make up the shittiest excuses for not getting something done and they’d still let him turn it in just because they liked him. That was really the own reason he’d been able to survive up until his junior year -- lying to and manipulating his teachers. Great. 

She nodded and turned her attention back to her music, still angry and frustrated. But then again, Darlene was angry and frustrated at least 90% of the time. “If it makes you feel any better,” he added, “I have to spend my week showing some douchey foreign exchange kid around the school.” He’d be meeting Tyrell soon, he was directed to go straight to the guidance counselor when he got to school instead of to homeroom. Fuck, he was dreading it. 

“Okay, but what if he’s nice?” she asked like it was an obvious thing to take into consideration. 

“I don’t care if he’s nice, I’ve got my own shit to do,” he complained. Yeah, it would be  _ better  _ if he was nice, but not good. 

“Then why did you decide to do it? They can’t force you to do this, right?” 

Fuck Mrs. Perry and her too-nice personality that had always been so convincing and too hard to let down. “I didn’t want to disappoint Mrs. Perry,” he answered truthfully. It would’ve been so much easier if he had simply said he didn’t have the time, but no. He just had to go and make everything more difficult for himself. Why the fuck did he always do that? He reassured himself by reminding himself that it was just one week, he had to deal with this for one week and then he’d never have to even think about it again. He just had to get through that one week. 

~~~

When they got off the bus, Darlene didn’t stick around for a second longer than she needed to. She was already rushing to homeroom, claiming that she forgot to do her geometry homework and if she was fast enough, she could finish it in the fifteen minutes they had before classes started. He decided to take his time getting to the guidance counselor, opting for the long route there to waste as much as time as possible. Some people would be pissed at him for walking so slowly in the hallway, but really, he didn’t care. 

He turned past a staircase and noticed someone he’d never seen before standing alone by the wall, staring down at his phone. But every once in a while he would look up and glance around the hall, which was growing less and less crowded as the bell got closer to ringing, like he was lost. He was probably just some freshman who still hadn’t gotten used to the complicated layout of the school, but there was a chance that it was Tyrell, the exchange student. Elliot was never one for starting conversations, but it wasn’t like he had to say much. “Umm….hi,” he started as the approached the student. 

Before he could get any other words in, the stranger was jumping in and cutting him off. “Oh, hi! Can you help me get to the guidance office?” He looked up from his phone to stare at Elliot with a wide smile. This was definitely Tyrell. It was made obvious by his distinct accent and the way he stumbled over his words or took a few extra moments to think about what to say. Even the way he dressed was a sign that this was Tyrell -- his khakis, button-down pale blue shirt, and Sperry’s. Jesus Christ, he was the epitome of a rich, douchey frat boy and he was only in high school. This week was going to be his own personal Hell. 

“Let me guess, Tyrell Wellick?” he asked. His hair was dirty blonde and slicked back with gel, (the opposite of the dark, messy set of curls on Elliot’s head) but it still flopped around slightly whenever he nodded. “I guess I’m the one who’s supposed to be showing you around and stuff, so just follow me and-”

Unexpectedly, Tyrell cut him off again. Were all Swedes like that, or was that just a Tyrell thing? “You’re Elliot Alderson?” Elliot nodded hesitantly. “Nice to meet you, Tyrell Wellick,” he said, as if Elliot hadn’t just said his name thirty seconds earlier. He reached out to shake Elliot’s hand, but he was so caught off guard that he didn’t know how to respond and instead let his hand hang limp as Tyrell shook it. Jesus. This was already off to a horrible start. After exchanging a few awkward glances, Tyrell continued. “So, you’ll take me to the guidance office?”

Elliot led the way, grateful that the office wasn’t too far away so he didn’t have to walk with Tyrell in that unnerving silence for too long. Mrs. Perry was already waiting for them at the door when they arrived. “Oh! You’ve already found each other! How nice!” How was it possible for someone to be so damn every day of their life? She must have been exhausted from keeping up with that act. “Are you excited to be in America?” she asked Tyrell as he sat down, taking the only chair that was across from her desk. 

“Very,” he answered politely, grinning almost as wide as she was. He didn’t even seem real. Everything about him was so polished, his shiny hair, bright clear skin, and immaculate clothing. Maybe he wasn’t real, maybe Elliot was dreaming. 

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find that our school is very welcoming,” she said, a blatant lie. Or maybe she was just so blind to the world that she genuinely believed she was telling the truth. The school was a shithole, from the classes, to the teachers, to the students, and anyone could see it. Except for Mrs. Perry, apparently. “Here’s a copy of your schedule in case you didn’t receive the one we emailed to you.” She handed him a slip of paper, which he glanced over and smiled at. Either he enjoyed suffering through hours of awful classes, or he couldn’t read the words well enough to understand what anything meant. 

“Now, if you have any questions, don’t be afraid to ask Elliot. He’s here to help you,” she explained. The bell rang, signaling that it was time for them to head to first period. Coincidentally, first period just happened to be history class, the same one that Tyrell had. Of course. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t get marked as absent for missing homeroom. Good luck, I’m sure you’ll love it here!”

Elliot easily found out that Tyrell was actually pretty decent at speaking English. Sometimes, it was hard to understand the words he was trying to pronounce due to his thick accent, but for the most part, he seemed to know what he was doing. “Can I -- can I look at your notes?” he asked in the middle of history class, leaning over the desk to look at Elliot’s paper. After interrogating Tyrell about what Sweden was like and if he liked America so far, the teacher had assigned Tyrell the seat next to Elliot since he was essentially his tour guide at school. While Tyrell could speak English fluently, he apparently had trouble comprehending information when it was being spoken so quickly. He couldn’t blame him, though. Sometimes, even Elliot had trouble keeping up with what Mr. Lamparter was saying. 

He slid over his page of notes and let Tyrell look over it as the lecture continued. “Thanks, Elliot,” Tyrell whispered. “Your writing is nice.” He assumed he meant his handwriting, which Elliot always thought was pretty sloppy. But compared to Tyrell’s chicken scratch, it could be considered neat. 

For a while, Tyrell stayed silent, listening closely and jotting down the words he heard. They were still analyzing the New Deal and how its policies helped or worsened the Great Depression. “Ok, in English, how would you say jävla?” Tyrell finally asked, leaning over and keeping his voice quiet. 

“I don’t know what that means, Tyrell.” How the fuck did he expect him to translate words for him when he didn’t know a single Swedish word.

“I heard it before, but now I forget the word….” Tyrell trailed off, deep in thought. “It’s like sex, but bad. A curse word that means sex.” 

Could he really not wait until they got out of history class to ask his stupid questions? “Fuck, or fucking,” he responded quietly, and Tyrell snorted at how the words sounded. The teacher glared back at them, but didn’t say anything. 

“You Americans have a fucking boring history.” 

Elliot had to physically force himself not to smile when he saw the way Tyrell laughed at his own stupid sentence. 

The day continued on, much the same as that history class. Tyrell would try his best to understand what the teacher was saying, but ultimately, he’d just end up copying the work from Elliot. It didn’t take long for news to spread around his school. Soon, he was constantly hearing people asking their friends if they heard about the new student from Sweden. The new  _ hot  _ student, as most people were describing him. It didn’t seem to bother Tyrell, though, if anything, he was enjoying all of the attention. 

“You don’t talk much,” Tyrell said at one point during the day, between 3rd and 4th period while they were walking to class amidst a busy hallway of murmuring voices. “Is that an American thing?” 

“I think it’s more of a personality thing.” Tyrell nodded in understanding, but something told Elliot he didn’t understand at all. Tyrell seemed like the type of a guy who had been relatively popular at his old school -- rich, loud, funny (sometimes) and hot (based on the opinions of Elliot’s classmates, of course). He fit the bill. 

Or maybe he was just so used to a school system that wasn’t so utterly shit as it was in America. A combination of both, more likely. 

To be fair, the whole ordeal wasn’t as awful as Elliot had expected it to be. Tyrell knew what he was doing for the most part, and (most) of the questions he asked were pretty logical. And, sure, he did spend the day following Elliot around like a lost dog, but at least he wasn’t  _ too  _ unbearably annoying. Elliot had gotten used to sitting with just Darlene at lunch, but he wouldn’t mind having someone else there to fill one of the empty chairs. 

“You can sit anywhere,” Elliot told Tyrell as they entered the cafeteria. “You know, meet more people or whatever. You don’t have to stay with me all day.” 

“I think I’ll sit with you,” Tyrell said. The lunch that day was pizza, or what their school constituted as pizza. None of their school’s food was good in any sense, but compared to some of the other horrendous dished they’d served, pizza wasn’t the worst thing possible. 

When they sat down, Tyrell stared down at the food on his tray in a distortion of both confusion and disgust. He didn’t know what school lunch was like in Sweden, but judging by the look on Tyrell’s face, it was much more appetizing than the slop they served in New York. “What is this?” Tyrell finally asked, poking at the slice of pizza with a plastic fork, deeply concerned. 

“It’s pizza,” Elliot said, taking a bite of his slice. It was only lukewarm in the middle and the cheese tasted burnt and artificial, but by then, he was used to it. Tyrell wasn’t.Tyrell cringed at the tiny bite he had taken and dramatically took a huge gulp of water to drown out the taste. Jesus, it was just a tiny piece of subpar pizza, it wasn’t like it was going to kill him or anything. 

“Is all American food like that?” Tyrell asked as soon as he could talk again. “Because if it is, I won’t survive.”

“It’s just because it’s school food,” Elliot shrugged. 

“Guess you’ll just have to take me out for real food sometime, then.” Elliot glanced up from his tray, but he quickly moved his eyes back down to the table when he saw that Tyrell was staring right at him with a sly grin. He was joking, he could get real food from his host family. Yeah, definitely joking, because when Elliot didn’t respond, he started to laugh and took another sip of water. 

Thank fuck Darlene showed up at just the exact moment, Elliot wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to handle the awkward silence after that. “Oh, is this Tyrell?” she asked, sitting down next to him. “The exchange student you said you didn’t want to have to deal with?” 

“Jesus, Darlene,” he warned. How fucking blunt did she need to be? “He’s sitting right there!”

“I can go if you-”

“No!” Elliot cut him off. “No, you can stay here. And Darlene, just shut the fuck up for a few minutes, alright?”

“I was just being honest.” That tended to be her excuse for everything. Honesty. Like it was impossible for her to be honest without being a massive dick to everyone. 

“I thought you were okay with showing me around….” he trailed off, voice softer than usual. Goddammit, of course he would take Darlene seriously.  _ Anyone  _ who didn’t know her would take her seriously. 

“I am, okay?” Tyrell nodded slowly, but there was still a look of sadness that remained on his face. “Hey, Darlene, there’s that Dom girl from your chem class,” he said, pointing to a table a few feet away from theirs. “Why don’t you go fix the project you fucked up?” 

“Maybe I will,” she responded, picking up her tray and walking away. Dom was sitting alone, writing quickly in her notebook with headphones in her ears. When Darlene sat down, they started arguing, probably over whose fault it was that nobody did the project. But then he unexpectedly saw Darlene stop mid-sentence and start laughing at something Dom had said. They’d figure it out. For the most part, he and Tyrell ate in silence. Or, Elliot ate while Tyrell periodically took sips of his water and stole strawberries off of Elliot’s plate. 

They both looked up when they heard a voice speaking above them. “Hey,” the voice said to Tyrell, a voice that Elliot matched up with a girl from his physics class, Joanna. She had long, dark hair, sharp eyeliner, and wore red lipstick to school almost every day. She was, in every aspect, beautiful, and Elliot couldn’t quite figure out why it made him uncomfortable when she rested her hand on Tyrell’s shoulder. “You’re Tyrell? From Sweden, right?”

“Yes, Tyrell Wellick. Good to meet you.” 

She laughed a shoved a strand of hair that had fallen over her eye behind her ear. “I’m Joanna, from Denmark. My family moved here when I was eight,” she explained. “But your English is sounding pretty good already.” 

“I mean, I have been practicing since I was a kid, so I would hope my English sounds pretty good.” 

She laughed again, overdramatically. It wasn’t even that funny, but whatever. “You know, school lunch sucks, right? Let me know if you ever want to go out for some real food,” she proposed, sliding a piece of paper to him across the table. No fucking way did she just use the  _ same  _ line Tyrell used on him, no way

“Oh, Elliot, that reminds me,” Tyrell began. “I didn’t understand the English assignment at all. Can I get your number so you can help me with it?”

Elliot scrawled his number out on the same crumpled up piece of paper Joanna wrote hers on. “Do you think you’re going to take her up on that offer?” he asked, just out of curiosity. It  _ was  _ a bit weird that she was asking him out for dinner after having one class with him and exchanging only a few words.

“Maybe, she seemed nice,” he said nonchalantly. 

“Really? I mean, you did just meet her.” Was that a foreign thing, too? Going out on dates with people you didn’t even know? Or was Tyrell just a horny teenager? It was getting increasingly difficult to tell the difference and it hadn’t even been a full day yet. 

“Isn’t that the point of a date? To get to know someone?” 

There was no use in arguing. Clearly, the people in Denmark and Sweden had much different ideas on the concept of dating than Americans did and that was the only explanation for their behavior. Not that Elliot cared too much, it was just….weird.

Thankfully, though, Elliot still didn't hate Tyrell. And he wasn’t dreading the next day, either. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but now that he knew Tyrell was a pretty decent person, he didn’t have to worry so much. He walked Tyrell out to the bus loop and explained that he’d have to watch for his bus so he didn’t miss it. He quickly pulled Elliot in for a hug, which Elliot dismissed as a normal thing for Swedes. “Thanks, Elliot. You were really helpful today. And don’t forget about helping me with that English thing.” 

Elliot couldn’t remember the last time someone  _ hugged  _ him. He and Darlene were probably just kids the last time they’d hugged, and having Tyrell’s arms around him felt odd, almost like they were out of place and they didn’t belong there. It wasn’t necessarily bad, though. 

Either way, he found that he was looking forward to the next day more and more. 


End file.
